Tag Archives: Author

Mental Dental Mishap Fear!

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It is no secret I don’t like dentists. I live in fear of their tools the same way the characters in my books fear being caught by the protagonist.

I don’t actually dislike the people who are dentists. I have very good friends who are dentists, and I like them as the person they are but not the career they have. It’s not their fault I fear their tools. It is a deep-seated fear from childhood and the old ways of the dentists back in the ’50s and ’60s.

My fear of dentists began the summer after I finished eighth grade. A fun game of badminton turned into the last time my real two front teeth inhabited my mouth. A little swing of the racket, my coming forward with my racket, and the meeting of my friend’s racket with my mouth as my friend swung at the birdie, sent pieces of my teeth probably flying over the net or somewhere never to be found. I remember my mom’s angst when she saw what happened. I wasn’t too upset until I visited the dentist. What was left of the teeth had to come out, a root canal had to be performed and pegged teeth had to be cemented in my mouth.

We didn’t have the technology we do today, so the first month of that summer, every few days was spent in the dentists office. I had a month of no front teeth. There were no TVs or music to drown out the noise of the drills. And I remember a lot of pain when he was working on my teeth.

Again, the man behind the drill was a very nice man and a caring man, but he wasn’t trained in gentleness technique. And his hands always shook, so occasionally they missed their mark.

My old school friend and I were comparing dentist notes from our childhood. She always wanted to go to my dentist, and I always wanted to go to hers. Must be the grass is always greener on the other side of the street thing. I wanted her dentist because they got cute plaster Disney statues for going to the dentist, and she wanted my dentist because hers sometimes had imbibed too much before working on patients. It was the shaky hands from being older versus the shaky hands from having a few fun beverages.

There was an upside to my accident; before the accident I had spaces between my real two front teeth. My new teeth were great.

Because of all this I have avoided the dentist for years and years. Yes, that many years. Add to the fact I have no dental insurance and it cemented my resolve to stay away from the imaginary torture chambers in my mind.

Over the years I have tried to make it to the dentist. I have made the appointments, and the office has made bets on whether I would make it. In the past weeks I could no longer avoid the dreaded dentist.  I was in a dither. My broken tooth sent me into a panic. Yes, I know, a small thing for most people but remember the torture chamber of my youth.

I remembered the restful feeling I had when accompanying my husband to his dentist this past year. He is a veteran and this dental office had a day when they provided free dental work for veterans. I thought possibly the restful feeling was the fact I was not the one undergoing the work, but I bit the bullet and had my husband make an appointment. They got me in right away.

The office was as I remembered it, peaceful with restful decor and a quiet atmosphere which calmed my nerves. The staff, knowing I was nervous, took time to make sure I was calm and comfortable. I had a TV right in front of me as I sat in the spa-like comfortable chair. This was not the dental office of my childhood.

And then I met the dentist and the dental assistant who were the essence of calm. I had my teeth examined — not as bad as I thought — and the gentleness made me quit shaking. I made the next three appointments. The truth was in the pudding. Would I make it back to actually have the work done? I canceled the first appointment because we had a blizzard, and the dentist was 40 miles away. I made it to the second appointment.

As I sat in the chair and watched “The Ellen DeGeneres Show” on television, the dental hygienist worked on my teeth. I almost fell asleep. I was able to daydream and plot my next book, and I can’t believe I am saying this: It was a relaxing time. I have two more appointments, and again I can’t believe I am saying this, but I actually am looking forward to getting my teeth fixed.

I have always loved new technology, but I haven’t thought about it in the terms of dentists. Technology has come a long way in making the torture chambers of my youth into a better experience for those of us that have dental aversion. My fear made the thought of the experience into a bigger terror than it was. I think I need to ponder that and wonder where it might carryover into the rest of my life.

“One of the greatest discoveries a man makes, one of his great surprises, is to find he can do what he was afraid he couldn’t do.” — Henry Ford

 

Authors and Editors, We Need One Another!

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love my editorsI love writing and when I write my creativity takes me along

with the story and I get lost in it, not caring about comma’s etc. I put comma’s in the wrong places, forget to use quotation marks and forget about correct sentence structure. I check my finished work and try to clean it up, but usually it is a mess. That is where my editors come in.

I want to highlight two people who work magic with my books. One is my publisher and editor plus being an author, Patricia Rockwell. When my manuscript for Cozy Cat Press cropped-ccplogonegative-e1433524649126.jpgis ready I send it in and she crosses the t’s, dots the i’s and makes me look better. She does this for all of her authors at Cozy Cat Press as she is the owner and publisher of the company.

Another person I rely on is D.A. Sarac and The Editing Pen. 1f71c0_74832be138cf469cb3612d72986d5b76I always feel it is good to have more than one set of eyes so I have her edit my independent books I publish under Hermiony Vidalia Books and the books I send to Cozy Cat Press. She has become invaluable to me. In fact, she too makes me look good. My new book The Penderghast Puzzle Protectors was  a mess when it came to comma’s and quotation marks. You would think I would learn but in my excitement and haste I miss many things and I hate editing and Annie Sarac loves editing.

Not only has The Editing Pen been invaluable to me with editing, she has also helped me with my promotions. An author needs to write, edit and promote and it is exhausting and so we ask for help. The Editing Pen offers a wide variety of services and support for authors.

I did try at one time to publish without an editor and it was a big mistake. I have learned my lesson. Every author you read, hopefully has a good editor in their back pocket. I am lucky to have two.

My new book will be featured here on Monday, so stay tuned, sign up to follow this blog  and for my newsletter where you can find the sign-up on julieseedorf.com.

For me this is thank an editor day. I just made it up. Thank you Patricia Rockwell and D. A. Sarac. You are the trick I carry in my back pocket to help my career be successful. And I would guess you would love to edit the post and all my snafu’s.

If you have an editor out there you love, leave a comment. I will choose one lucky winner to receive a surprise. And if you are a reader and don’t have an editor, make a comment anyway. I love to hear from you. And make sure you check back to see if you have won.

It’s Happy Editor’s Friday. Thank an Editor.

Edited by Patricia Rockwell and D. A. Sarac

Edited by Patricia Rockwell and D. A. Sarac

How Can I Lead A Simple Life?

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SOMETHING ABOUT NOTHING published in the Albert Lea Tribune and Courier Sentinel week of  January 11, 2016 ©Julie Seedorf

 

As much as I dislike routines, I have one routine in the morning that centers me for the day. I sit down in the quiet of the morning, journal, write in my gratitude journal and take time for inspiration from a book and author who might inspire me to live my life better.

This morning one sentence from Joyce Meyer’s book “Seven Things That Steal Your

Joy,” popped out and hit me straight between the eyes. The sentence was this: “Keep it simple.” Joyce Meyer’s section this day was devoted to having guests over. She described the way we try and make everything so perfect we don’t enjoy the time with our guests. We worry about the state of our house, our food, our appearance and whether we might measure up to our guests standards.

The reason these words stood out to me was because I had those very worries the day before. It is our turn to host our monthly Bible study or book group. We are trying to find a time when it works for all of us to get together. It happens to fall on a day later in the month when I will be out of town for a few days, coming home the very afternoon we are going to entertain the group. I said we would make it work. In the back of my mind I already began to be stressed. I knew I needed to clean before I left, but I also have my shysters who occasionally get into mischief while I am gone, and there is no guarantee I would not have a few remnants from their mischief to clean up when I came home.

Food was another issue. The hosting home provides the main meal and everyone else brings something to add to the meal. All my friends are great cooks and we usually have something delicious, homemade and wonderful. Would I be able to do that in the time I had after I got home? One of my friends offered to bring the main meal, but I felt that wasn’t fair.

Do any of you stress about company? I never used to. The reading in my morning devotion reminded me of our first married years. We started out in a rented house, with secondhand rented furniture, and I decorated using what we had. It was homey and comfy and I loved my home. It felt like home. I didn’t hesitate to invite people over and friends dropped in unannounced. It was a simple time in our lives. We were starting to build a life, and we didn’t have a lot of stuff. Since our friends were in the same position, their houses matched mine.

The years have passed and our lifestyles have changed. Some of our friends are the same friends, and we have met new ones along the way. Our lifestyle change has also included houses. Many of my friends have beautiful new modern houses with manicured yards, and the homes are tastefully decorated. They are beautiful. We always feel welcome in their homes.

I too, have a nice older home. I too try and stay up-to-date with my decorating and make sure it looks great when people are over. Thus, my anxiety when I have company because I want to measure up. I want to make it clear, my friends do not make me feel I have to do this. It has come with the territory of society, growing older, a change of lifestyle and possibly media. And perhaps my own insecurity about the rough edges showing up in my older home.

I have seen the criticism in our newspapers and media judging those whose homes are old and need some repair. But perhaps the people that live in these houses have simply found the secret to contentment because they live life without the trappings we all fall into. I used to feel contentment at living in an old home the first years of my marriage until I believed I needed to keep up with what society bellowed to me. My most comfortable and peaceful place in my life was my grandma’s old house, with the floor furnace, plastic drapes and an old cook stove in the kitchen. It was simplicity.

Joyce Meyer talks about the simplicity of fellowship. How often on the spur of the moment do we invite people over for a BBQ even if all we have is hot dogs and potato chips? How often do we ask people to drop in without calling? Our door used to always be open to drop-ins in our earlier married years. Now, the doorbell is silent unless we invite someone in, and we don’t do that anymore spontaneously because we might not be ready for company.

We have made the simple act of friendship and fellowship complicated. I miss the days when my walls were covered with old signs, and we sat on the floor around an old trunk and sipped coffee or had a drink of wine, and I didn’t care if the bed wasn’t made or there were dishes in the sink. Neither did my company and we enjoyed our conversation and our time together.

I miss the times when we would say, “Stay for supper. I don’t know what we’re having. t might be peanut butter sandwiches.” It didn’t matter, and we had fun anyway. I enjoyed my company without worrying about all the trappings. I have forgotten to keep it simple and because of that my home has become more quiet and silent.

I miss the days when I didn’t care what was on my walls or the condition my furniture was in or the fact that my food was simple. And it is no one’s fault but mine that I bought into the hype. My friends don’t make me feel this way, I take ownership for those feelings.

In my old age I have finally come to realize I feel more comfortable in old homes. I feel more comfortable visiting where a home feels lived in and used. And that statement takes me to having company. I am grateful for my devotion this morning that reminded me of what is important when visiting with friends. From now on out, I am going to keep it simple. Let the dust accumulate while I’m gone, the shysters make their mischief and the food be simple. What is most important is the conversation and sharing that will happen at my table.

Things that I grew up with stay with me. You start a certain way, and then you spend your whole life trying to find a certain simplicity that you had. It’s less about staying in childhood than keeping a certain spirit of seeing things in a different way.